Disclaimer: I don't own Megamind (or Minion, or Roxanne); I'm just using them for my nefarious purposes.


The morning sun filtered through the few high windows in the lair's main room. Dust motes and brain-bots drifted about through patches of light. Minion's robotic body lay on the floor in the middle of the lab, while Megamind was curled up a few feet away, his rolled-up cloak serving as a pillow.

The brain-bots who weren't off cleaning up the city swarmed about the duo. They had been quieter than usual that morning to let Daddy sleep, but they had their limits when it came to patience. "BOWM!" one of the bots shouted near Megamind's right ear. It was clear that Daddy wasn't going to wake up and play without some help. When there was no response, it reached out a spiked claw and tapped Daddy's shoulder.

Megamind snapped awake, knocking his head on the metal underside of the bot. "Yipe! Ouch! Bad brain-bot!" he scolded, rubbing his sore forehead and frowning ferociously. The brain-bot fled to join its siblings in the next room.

Minion awoke more gracefully, his castle rising up into his fish-bowl head. He wiggled out of it and gave his boss a wide grin. "Good morning, sir! Sleep well?" Minion didn't really expect an answer, which was just as well because he didn't receive one.

Muttering darkly about brain-bots and trash compactors, Megamind got up stiffly and began puttering around the lab. "Where did we leave off, Minion?" he asked.

"I believe we were discussing the relative merits of polo shirts, sir," Minion replied. "I still think they look classy."

"For the last time, Minion, I don't want to look like I'm going to a golf...match!" Megamind waved a hand in the air as he paced. "I want to actually look normal."

Minion raised a fishy eyebrow but said nothing.

Megamind sighed heavily. "I know, I know. This"—he gestured to himself—"doesn't exactly scream 'normal.' But it's about the illusion."

"I think you look just fine, sir. You're worrying too much." Minion smiled reassuringly. "Ms Ritchi knows you. She's seen you at your best and your worst."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"But she still likes you," Minion continued.

"I'm not so sure of that," Megamind said morosely. "She could be asking me out to tell me that she still hates me. Or that she never wants to see me again."

"That doesn't even make any sense!" Minion frowned.

Megamind glared at his friend. "You always say that."

"Only when it's true, sir," Minion retorted. And Megamind had always been at his most illogical when it came to the pretty reporter. "Now let's go get you some new clothes to wear on your date with Ms. Ritchi."


"This is humiliating," Megamind grumbled as Minion gently set him on his feet in the mall's parking lot.

"Sorry, sir, but you're the one who said we had to take the back-up hovercycle while the other vehicles are broken." Minion shrugged apologetically.

"I know, I know." The blue-skinned alien sighed. "I don't want to talk about it. I just hope no one saw you carrying me like a child." He glanced around furtively. They'd decided not to wear the hologram watches so that Megamind could find clothes that fit, but as a result they were much more conspicuous.

Minion wisely decided not to mention the news van parked nearby. They'd probably see pictures of themselves in tomorrow's paper, but it wasn't like they weren't used to bad press. At least it wasn't Roxanne's news station.

Two hours later, Minion was balancing half a dozen shopping bags in his gorilla-sized arms. Megamind was trudging along beside him, his eyes glazed over from exhaustion. He was still wearing his old leathers. Nothing Minion said would convince him to change before the actual date.

"Tell me, Minion," Megamind said irritably, "whatever possessed those store owners to put sharp metal pins inside every shirt? Aren't other humans expected to try them on? Does that seem like a logical course of action to you?"

"No, sir," Minion answered for the hundredth time. Megamind had been complaining since the first pinprick in the first dress shirt. He'd tried on fifty before finding colors that he liked: navy blue and black. What a surprise. "It's quite illogical."

Megamind dragged his feet pathetically. "And who made the blueprints for that structure? They didn't plan for escape from drooling, germ-infested infants or swarms of giggling teenagers..."

"Yes, sir, it's terrible." Minion was focusing on loading their packages on the already-precariously-balanced hovercycle. He knew that his boss wouldn't notice the rote responses. Nothing could sway Megamind during one of his monologues.

"At least we weren't forcibly removed," Megamind said thoughtfully. "And I think I looked rather dashing even without the spikes and gauntlets."

"Certainly, sir." Minion slipped his "Big & Tall" bag into the pile. He'd picked out a nice shirt for himself while Megamind had been preoccupied by his appearance in one of the dressing room mirrors. Minion was hoping to show it off at their next public function.

"I'll miss those gloves, though." Megamind sighed theatrically as Minion picked him up again and settled him on one robotic arm. A flip of a switch, and the hovercycle zoomed off toward home.


Roxanne endured two long and restless nights in a row. When her alarm finally sounded at 9am on Saturday morning, her sheets were tangled around her legs and both pillows had been tossed to the floor. She yawned, irritably slapped the alarm, and then stumbled out of bed to turn on the shower.

A couple of stubbed toes later, she hauled herself to the fogged mirror. Her eyes were a little bloodshot, but—were those mascara smudges, or dark circles?—she was used to applying a lot of makeup in the mornings. Only this time it was for a date instead of the camera. Roxanne frowned a little at the word. Was that what this was? A date? Why did that idea seem so strange? It wasn't like she hadn't been out with Megamind before, albeit when he was in disguise. Maybe that was why the situation felt so awkward. Or maybe it was because she was actually looking forward to the meeting.

She shooed away her butterflies with a deep breath. She was probably just stressed. Her therapist had assured her that returning to work might be difficult, but he hadn't had any advice to offer regarding her love life. Roxanne guessed that inter-species dating hadn't been a course topic in psychiatry school. She almost giggled at the idea.

After debating for nearly half an hour about whether or not to wear jeans to the coffee shop, Roxanne finally picked a skirt-and-top combo that she'd worn on a date with Bernard—no, with Megamind, she corrected herself. She didn't want to look too carefully into the implications of that fashion choice. Or the sense of expectation that bubbled up like laughter in her chest.

Roxanne was possibly a little clumsier than usual as she grabbed her coat and purse on her way out, but luckily no one was there to see.


"Ouch!" Megamind flinched as one of the brain-bots jabbed him in his still-healing ribs. "Don't poke Daddy!" The robot quickly withdrew its metal claw, barking an apology.

Minion tilted his head to one side. "I'm not sure the brain-bots were equipped to handle buttons, sir," he commented. The long-sleeved black dress shirt and khakis looked nice, but they were a little more complicated than his old two-piece villain suits.

"Nonsense, Minion," Megamind replied haughtily. He presented an unbuttoned sleeve to the nearest bot. "If they can handle eyeliner, they can surely handle little plastic things in holes." He frowned when the bot fiddled with the button instead of fastening it. "Although buttons do seem dreadfully impractical compared to zippers."

"I noticed," Minion said wryly. "Nevertheless, they're kind of necessary for everyday wear."

"Ugh, don't you think I know that, Minion? I just wish that these things involved fewer buttons. And a little leather would be nice."

Minion watched, fascinated, as the brain-bot continue to tug on the stubborn button. The thread finally snapped and the button flew across the lair, never to be seen again. Both Minion and Megamind winced.

"Maybe I'll just roll the sleeves up," Megamind said, shooting a baleful glare at the impatient bot. It quickly dropped his arm and ducked out of the room.

"That might be a good idea, sir," Minion agreed.

When he was done, Megamind stepped over to the full-length mirror. He turned from side to side, examining his appearance critically. "Well, it's no Black Mamba, but I think it will do." As he stared at himself, he realized that the cut of the outfit emphasized his unusual head size and primary-colored skin. His alienness. A flicker of uncertainty passed through him. He turned to Minion. "Are you sure that I look magnificent enough?" he asked, plucking at the shirt collar. "Not too…villainous?"

Minion nodded encouragingly. "You look surprisingly un-evil, sir!" he said.

"And you're certain it's customary to leave the top shirt buttons unfastened?" he asked, doubt in his voice.

"Yes, sir, you saw the pictures too," Minion answered patiently.

"I suppose," Megamind said, not convinced. "It seems that buttons really are rather useless. Too bad I can't wear my cape." He heaved a sigh.

"You look just fine without it, sir," Minion said. "And I'm sure Ms. Ritchi will agree."

"Oh, alright," Megamind gave in. He puffed out his chest heroically and admired his reflection. "Then let's get going, you incredible ichthyoid, you!"

Minion shook his head. "I think you'd better go by yourself, sir."

"But—"

"…unless you want me to carry you to your date," Minion finished.

Megamind was silent for a rare moment. "I suppose you're right," he said finally. "I'd better get the googles, then."

"That would be goggles, sir," Minion corrected, bemused. "And they're on your head."


Next chapter: the date! Warning: there may be a little delay in posting this, as I'm working on a few projects for school. As always, please feel free to leave feedback, and thanks for reading! :)